Slowly inching toward a big goal 🐢

We’re opening a store! I know, I know, I said this months and months ago. Everything here in the middle of rural Utah just takes longer. A broken window took five months to replace because the only window repair in our county said, “Fayette?, we just don’t go out there that often.” They are half an hour away, I’m not way out on the edge of the earth though sometimes it does feel that way. Anyhoo, that much time lapse gives this overthinking mind too much to worry about. It was a big buildup preparing into the summer months then a slow march from there.

When we were in Colorado at the beginning of the summer, Zach and I were tasked with giving a presentation to Utah Microloan Fund, a nonprofit that helps start ups like us with no history of business financing. In the lead up to this task, I had to submit business plans, cost projections, all the legal documentation to prove that I was a serious business and this isn’t just a hobby or far fetched dream. The good news, we got approved shortly after giving our presentation!

So now with funding in place, I’m starting to order things like shelves, tables, a fridge and freezer, and soon even some inventory! Not setting an opening date until some of those things arrive and the space feels more ready, but I’m excited and eager to liftoff.

This gets to the heart of our fast paced, instant gratification consumer minds. I’ve long let go of Amazon-speed expectations, even they take a week to deliver here. Maybe it’s divine timing, and that means slower, not at my harried and frantic pace. I’m finally coming to accept my human limitations and just go with the flow a lot more these days. The chickens are coming into egg laying, so perhaps they were setting the pace all along. (Yes, there will be pasture eggs for sale as available!)

The garden was a big flop this year, but it’s our first time in a new climate and with the big blank slate we started with, just building soil is sufficient for now. The squash bugs didn’t kill everything so we’ll at least have some pumpkins and other gourds for the fall. I might get a handful of tomatoes if they ever decide to ripen. The chickens are enjoying the ground cover and they fertilize out there almost daily, so we’ll take the wins where we can.

We met some fellow Coloradans in Spring City who have a store similar to what we envision and I’m beginning to pepper them with some of my work flow and production questions. The key here for me is to not try to do everything. I need some recruits for baked goods and for produce (did you read about my paltry garden?)

Putting it all out here is vulnerable and somewhat intimidating. Getting the funding and talking more about it makes it real. I’m accountable to someone(s). It’s terrifying in the best way. I guess that’s how I know we’re on the right track. Thanks for encouraging me along the way, we really are better together.

Memory Inventory

I have this huge modern age aversion to organizing my photos. I’ll do it, but my back has to up against the wall, whether pictures are busting out of their development envelopes like in the good old days of film, or in this case, my iCloud is full and I need to backup or pay for larger storage. I loathe this task. The last time I did it was in 2018 if that is any indication of my aversion. I have 8000 photos from the last 5 years that need (and indeed have) a home to land in that is not cloud based.

This task brings up all kinds of existential questions for me. What if I put these pictures on my external hard drive and no one ever looks at them, again? I went through the majority of my parent’s photo albums when we were clearing out their house in 2021 and honestly, most of the albums ended up in the trash. My dad took a lot of photos on long work trips of the process of putting up electrical lines across the western U.S. After looking at so many, you get the idea of what was involved and don’t need to sift through the whole box to discover any more. It was a core memory for him though and when we drove across Colorado and moved him to Utah, he was actively reminiscing about that process and I had no doubt that even given his decreased mental state, he did play a part in electrifying that portion of I-70. Obviously it held meaning for him, but what of our future generations will a box full of the same photos of strangers and heavy equipment mean to anyone else? Maybe being a nomad for so long made me less sentimental about holding onto things. Clearing out their house did the same for me. But life captured on a phone is somehow different in my brain.

So now I’m cataloguing our photos of the long traveling journey and some of the time before that up until present day, I’m not going to make physical albums or hang photos everywhere like I have done in the past. They were memories made and reminders of fun times had, but I documented the journey right here in this blog and on social media, I got what I needed out of it, it’s time to free up the space on my phone to make space for new moments that call for documentation. For someone like me who needs those visual cues of what I was doing in September of 2020 for example, removing pictures from my phone feels like I’m erasing my memory. Same goes for emails and texts but those have to be archived or deleted as well. For someone whose family member has dementia this feels very sensitive and tender and if I put that memory somewhere else, will I ever go to access it again? What if I forget?

I was talking about this whole photo conundrum with a neighbor a few months ago, how when we were growing up our parents took photos 12 or 24 at a time over a span of several months or a year. They were documenting the really special moments or highlights of a trip. They’d come home and get the film developed and put the pictures in an album or a box, this didn’t even happen all the time. Sometimes the film never even made it to the developer. My family didn’t have videos or need to be archivists to document family life. Once a year portrait studios were more my mom’s jam. In my own little family Natalie was born on the end of the film era, so she has several albums I put together when I was more diligent and less over documenting of her early years. Camden came in 2010, well into the digital age, and he has maybe one or two physical albums to take into adulthood, the rest of his early years are on CDs that where can you even go to look at anymore, or on Facebook which will that even be relevant to look at in his future. It’s so strange how quickly everything changed once we all had cellphones and the ability to take millions of photos and videos of every little thing.

I guess in summary I’m realizing I need to treat my unused photos a little more blasé and with a little more detachment. They are not the be-all-end-all part of an experience, like if I didn’t take the picture did it even happen? Yes, I get enjoyment out of the process of documenting, but if the archival process is going to be such and arduous chore, maybe I can edit a little more along the way and not go five more years ignoring, dancing around, and subverting this notice…

One Year (plus a couple weeks) on the Homestead

I was having all these nostalgic feelings as the one year mark approached from when we moved here, but then we got into business and camping planning so my writing as of late once again has been thwarted. Nevertheless, the date came and went (6/19), so here I am posting in July. You, dear reader, probably didn’t notice and that is absolutely fine.

The biggest thing I’ve noticed here physically is that since we’ve been slowly improving the soil, when it rains we don’t get as many mud puddles or standing water. We’ll keep composting and adding inputs that improve the soil health, we have a fledgling little garden, and I have to keep my expectations low for much production this season. I’ll keep weeding and stay faithful, we’ve heard it could take up to five years to get the land to do what you want it to. Slow and steady is a saying for a reason. Also of note, while we’ve gardened plenty in the past it was always at rented property or on our school’s community garden plot. This is a whole new level starting from scratch, knowing what should go where, companion planting, shade patterns, etc.

We got 15 baby chicks in April and are babysitting a couple of sheep for the summer. Cats or something got into the coop while we were away last week so we are at 13 chickens now. I thought I’d be terrified of them since I’m not a huge fan of any foul but these ladies (and maybe a male or two, too early to tell) are really winning me over. The sheep are mowing our back pasture and there appears to be no more traces of thistle or bindweed, so yay them! Their manure is a great fertilizer as well. No plans for that area yet in terms of growing things but at least the mitigation is helping to clear out the negative so the native plants can thrive. Check out the milkweed!

Hummingbird moth on the milkweed

Indoors, not much has needed alteration. Just your run of the mill repairs and upkeep (today being the swamp cooler, just in time! Spring was good to us but now it’s HOT.) Our biggest projects have been getting water and electricity from the front of the property to the middle so that our two outbuildings can have power and we’ll eventually build a drip irrigation system for the garden so we have the infrastructure up to make that easier when we’re ready. Fence work is an ongoing project as it is for any farm. The big old trees will likely be getting some major trim work in the fall. They are great for their shade but they are Siberian Elms and they drop seeds and branches and ooze some gross liquid constantly. We’ll be pulling up their shoots for the remainder of our or their lives here.

The biggest upcoming news is that we got funding to start The Merc and will be opening a grocery store in the coming month or so. The business plan writing and projecting costs on financial worksheets were a huge mental hurdle and I’m so glad it all came together with help from friends, mentors, the SBDC, our business banker, and the Utah Microloan Program. I can’t wait to get to the physical work of transforming this blank canvas of a storefront into an actual business. Stay tuned for more, and if you’re a local reading this let me know what you’d love to see in this little local store. Think farmer’s market and kitchen staples.

Three years ago we left Denver for a nine month nomad excursion. That trip twisted and turned in so many unknown directions that make up the body of this blog. The first stop on that trip was a visit to our friend’s newly acquired hemp farm in Paonia, Colorado. Three years later we were able to return to their farm for their annual Summer Solstice party. Camping for a week on the western slope of the state we left has given me fresh perspective.

We’ve just returned full circle so to speak from that starting point. Seeing their vision come to fruition in three short years gives me great hope and inspiration for what we can also achieve. We saw their starts and have seen their work pay off in the way of a diverse community and successful business. We didn’t know where we were headed all those years ago, but we have a pretty good idea now. This was also the first camping trip we’d taken in a good long time where we were all actually excited to get back to our regular lives. It was refreshing to get away and is always sweet to see friends, but we are thriving in what we are creating here. Grow where you’re planted.

When Helping Hurts

This blog title comes from a book that was semi-required reading prior to any mission trip travels at my prior church. It is a helpful framework in traveling to developing countries on how to interact, how to level set our expectations, and basically how to not try to impose our ways of doing things or beliefs or values onto others. I think a lot of us get this cerebrally but in practice it is a lot harder.

The past two months we (but I mostly since I facilitated and brought all of this on) temporarily housed someone in our trailer and now that it’s done I have a lot of insight and also, like the title says, helping hurts. It was hard. There were some big missteps and misunderstandings. And frankly I invested way too much of my emotional bandwidth that left me weary and cynical.

The intentions here never wavered. When we were living on the road we were extended extreme kindness from several strangers as well as a church in Farmington, NM. Complete strangers allowed us to park our circus on their property for swaths of time that then allowed us to rest and plan and prepare for the next stop. It was a chaotic time but always grace filled. We were always grateful even if the circumstances weren’t perfect. And we always EXPRESSED that gratitude to our hosts, before during and after the experience. I knew I wanted to pay that hospitality forward when and where I could when the opportunity presented itself.

The opportunity presented itself with this traveler. But I abandoned a level setting of expectations that I should have expressed from the beginning. I’m terrible at setting boundaries and clear plans, so when those are lacking I quickly abandon my sense of serenity, be that around a relationship or a situation. This was the case and it became clear over a month ago that this wasn’t going to be as smooth sailing as we all thought it would be when we first went in. Fortunately, I have a team of friends and sponsor who can help me reason things out. I set a boundary and a deadline for this temporary housing situation to end. The past few weeks have been awkward but honest and we all survived. She left yesterday, the trailer is clean and she was respectful of our space. But I’m sad and disappointed because there was no thank you or real goodbye. Aside from a few conversations between her and I early on about gratitude, there was nothing else. I feel like a sucker who was taken advantage of for showing kindness. I see why people harden themselves off to doing these kind of gestures because we’re all just experiencing life with our hurts trailing behind us and not a lot of tools for collective healing or self reflection.

Would I do it again? Funnily, yes. So I’m not so disheartened or jaded from the experience that I’ve shut my heart to another possible opportunity to help. But I’m not an expert or a social worker so I’d do things vastly different if something like this came up again. Starting with agreeing to clear terms be that exchange of services or rent payments or what have you. I’ll also be more ready with what I can offer more clearly. When we stayed with our farmer friend Roger in Pagosa Springs, we had an hour long phone interview followed by a two hour sit down interview with him as a family to get really clear on boundaries and expectations. Gosh, Roger sure is wise. I can apply new wisdom too while keeping an open heart.

To the traveler, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not having clear boundaries or expectations. I’m sorry for the fluctuations in temperatures as that trailer is not set up for long term living unless you know all of her ins and outs like we do. I thought that since we did it for so long, others could as well, and that turned out not to be the case and it’s on me for not communicating that very clearly from the very beginning. I’m sorry the shower was broken and that the wind blew out the pilot light so many times. So many things in that trailer in the elements are out of my control and every time something happened I felt terribly responsible. Also, thank you with the garden and chicken help during this early spring season. You clearly have knowledge and skills in those realms and i hope you get to keep applying those skills to new situations in your next place. If we ever cross paths again I want you to know we want the best for you and wish you all the good things you deserve. I hope you find the people and things you need to heal. It’s all possible and available. Happy trails to you.

Now onto our actual summer with travel and camping plans and zero drama.

I got lost in the weeds

It’s really been almost two months since my last writing. We’ve all been outside a whole lot (hallelujah!). I’ve been business planning, stumbling, tripping, getting stuck in fear and perfectionism, but I’m aware of that now and ready to step into action again.

I opened my planning notebook and the last day I took any business actions was the end of April. Then I allowed myself to get distracted by all the things; chickens, gardening, my dad’s things, my kid’s things. And on and on. It’s a destructive pattern that I can’t catch myself doing until I pause and recalibrate. Yesterday I plucked a box full of weeds from all over the yard. Last year when we got here there was little weeding to do – it was mostly dry and desolate, making the weeds very manageable and visible. The weeds I’m going after are brambly, all over the place, and once dry will become prickly goat heads. Bike tire killers, annoying to both people and dog feet everywhere. So I’m getting at them while they’re easy to pluck and soft enough to snag bare handed. But while I’m hunting I’m also thinking, (probably too much). About the state of our world, about the precariousness of starting a new business, about borrowing money for that business, about paperwork I still need to do for my dad’s needs, about driving all over the county for the next six weeks for Camden’s baseball, about Natalie starting some jobs this summer and how to shuffle cars for it all to work, about doctor and dentist appointments needing to be researched and scheduled. Like I said, all. the. things.

I got to the weeds for a few minutes this morning again but then had to stop. This goal of eradicating this specific weed in this moment is really keeping me from the work I need to do in pursuit of MY goals. Yes, it’s important, but I need not let it consume large swaths of my day. I need not exhaust my body first thing and then have nothing left in the tank for writing or planning later.

I’ve never been much for the write and schedule block in a planner, but maybe I need to change my mind on this. The things I put in the calendar rarely coincide with my own needs or goals. I have large chunks of day that I largely mismanage in service to the house or someone else. Do all mothers do this? Do all women do this? I thought I was more aware than I am.

The other thing that keeps coming up for my is the cynic who says that all of this effort is pointless so why even try. There are such huge societal issues playing out before our very eyes. We as a country are so sick and obsessed with weapons, more concerned with party over principle, completely numb to the horrors we hear of every single day. It’s exhausting to just be alive. What difference can a little store in the middle of nowhere (somewhere?) make? I could really use some encouragement in this area. The isolation of these thoughts keeps me stuck too. I feel powerless. So tell me reader, what you do to keep moving forward when we are the ones we have been waiting for.

The Writings of Breanne Mashek

Homesteading, Caregiving, Ramblings, and Travel

Author: breannemashek